Three's a Crowd
by Queen of Kaos
Summary: Cowritten with Vera Roberts. He had a devoted girlfriend and a supportive best friend, but one drunken threesome changes everything for John Cena. Rated for mature content and language. CenaOrtonOC
1. Are you crazy?

**Three's a Crowd**

**A/N: I accidentally posted this story with no note at first. I just wanted to take a quick minute to warn you all that this story is a bit different than my other works. The subject matter is slightly controversial, but you guys have stuck with me through a lot of other touchy subjects, so I have every faith that you can handle this one, too! Many thanks to my co-author, Vera Roberts, who has encouraged me every step of the way with this one! I welcome your reviews, and as always, Enjoy!**

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"I'm tellin' you, Sar, he's never gonna go for it."

"Have a little faith, Orton. We just have to ask the right way."

Burrowing further into the covers, John Cena fought to block out the muffled voices threatening to invade his sleep. Though the sunlight pouring through the windows told him that morning had arrived, an insistent pounding his brain told John that more sleep was necessary.

_Why do I feel like I got hit with a brick? _With a groan, he covered his face and squeezed his eyes tighter in defiance of waking so soon. Burying his face into the pillow beside him, John wondered why something felt different. Something wasn't right. The scent that filled his nostrils reminded him that his long-time girlfriend, Saryn Foster, should have been wrapped in his arms, cradled against his chest.

Without warning or permission, memories began to assault John's brain. They had been in New York City for a show at Madison Square Garden when Saryn had shown up to surprise him for his birthday. His best friend, Randy Orton, had arranged for a bash at the notorious Butter nightclub, where his friends and teammates had partied until the wee hours of the morning.

He remembered Saryn standing on a small coffee table, a bottle of champagne dangling between her fingers as her curvaceous hips swayed to the heavy hip hop beat saturating the club. John had reclined on a leather sofa, flanked on each side by Randy and Edge, enjoying Saryn's impromptu performance as they slammed back shot after sweet, burning shot.

His girlfriend was hypnotic, with her long, toned legs and full, firm breasts. The micro mini and knee-high boots that she sported only enhanced the image of seduction that she unwittingly created as she entertained the birthday boy and his friends. Saryn wasn't exactly inhibited when sober, and after consuming nearly an entire bottle of champagne, she had no qualms about dancing on a table for anyone to appreciate.

John allowed himself to smile at the memory of her long hair as it flowed over her shoulders when she rotated her hips against him, throwing her head back while she relished the feeling of his large shaft filling her completely. He thought about the angellic look on her face as she lay against the pillows of the bed, her thighs spread to accomodate the tongue between them. Rolling onto his side, he thought about the way her full, pink lips had parted in a sharp gasp as she accepted the attention being lavished on her body.

The reminiscent grin faded, though, as John realized he hadn't been the one bringing such intense oral pleasure to his girlfriend. The amount of alcohol required to convince him to share Saryn for the evening, even with his best friend, John didn't want to know. He supposed that, if he had to make an idiotic, drunken decision with anyone, he was glad it was Randy. He had been the one to introduce the happy couple in the first place.

Though he knew he was only justifying what he knew was a potentially volatile situation, John chose to ignore the strange feeling in his gut. What had been done couldn't be undone. He couldn't change it or fix it. He could only hope that everyone involved decided to forget it and move on as though the after-hours activities had never taken place.

Stretching his large arms over his head, John decided that feigning sleep would only delay the inevitable confrontation of the new day. Extending his legs and arching his back off of the soft mattress, John expelled a growl from his chest as his blue eyes fluttered open to greet the sunlight. Instead, he jumped at the sight of Saryn's dark gaze staring back at him.

"Um," John stammered, running a large hand over his chest to still his pounding heart. "Good morning?"

With a giggle, Saryn lowered herself to her boyfriend's side, stretching out beside him and hitching one leg over his broad thigh. "Morning, Sleepyhead," she whispered. "I thought you'd never wake up."

Rolling his head toward her, John felt Saryn's soft lips against his, shooting an excited shock through his body. Even after seven years together, her kisses still affected him like nothing else. "What time is it?" he mumbled, resting his forehead against hers lazily.

"It's after ten," the response came from the end of the bed.

Averting his gaze toward the sound, John watched as Randy perched on the edge of the chair, hastily pulling his socks over his large feet. "What time's our flight?" John asked nobody in particular.

Randy grabbed his PDA from the dresser and clicked a few buttons. "Not until two," he said, tossing the phone back to its resting place before thrusting his feet into his tennis shoes. "You've got a phone interview at noon, but it's a phone-in, so you can do it on the way to the airport," he informed.

With a smirk, John struggled to sit, propping himself against the headboard and pulled an unusually quiet Saryn against his chest. "So you're like my personal assistant now?" he teased Randy. "My secretary?"

Blushing slightly, Randy flipped John off and grabbed his personal items from the dreser. "Your woman mentioned it," he corrected, shoving his wallet and phone into his back pockets before buckling his belt, his eyes never meeting John's as he moved quickly. "I'm gonna go grab a shower and get my shit together. We've gotta check out by noon, so just meet me in the lobby before that."

John coudn't help laughing at the way Randy was scurrying around. "You rob a bank or somethin'?" he asked. He'd spent enough time traveling with Randy over the years to know that he never did anything in a hurry, especially in the morning. "Why the hell you sprintin', dude?"

Randy froze in his place, slowly turning his head toward the couple in the bed. John knew him well enough to read his expression without words. After the activities of the previous evening, the only thing Randy knew for sure was that he didn't want to see the look in his best friend's eyes. "Nah, I'm cool," he assured.

"You sure?" John asked, noting that Randy's eyes were flitting shiftily between himself and his girlfriend. "Relax, man," he advised. "Go get your shit and we'll meet you in the lobby in an hour. We'll grab breakfast before we head out."

Sighing in relief, Randy made his way to the door, offering a short wave before exiting the room without another word. If John told him to relax, everything would be alright.

"You sure everything's cool?" Saryn asked, turning in John's arms and smiling lazily at her boyfriend, who was appearing much more alert than he had minutes earlier. "I mean, last night was kinda outta control," she conceded.

John thought about the question. Was he okay with the fact that he and his best friend had taken turns with his girlfriend? Was he okay with the fact that they had, for all intents and purposes, had a completely hetero threesome? "Just tell me I didn't suck Orton's dick."

Pouting slightly, Saryn shook her head. "I even asked nicely, but you wouldn't," she teased.

His fingers trailed the smooth skin of her arms as he tried to recall all of the intimate details of the previous night through the hangover fog that was settling over his memory. "I didn't let him fuck me, did I?" Again, Saryn shook her head. "Then I'm all good," John said, pressing another soft kiss to her forehead.

"Good," Saryn whispered, nodding her head and blinking her eyes. "Good," she added.

For the first time since waking, it occured to John that his girlfriend might not be okay with what had happened. She had always been the more open-minded of the pair, but maybe the idea of being shared between two drunken frat boys wasn't something she found appealing. What if he had inadvertantly disrespected the woman he loved? What if they had forced her into something she had been opposed to?

"Saryn, are you?" She nibbled worridly on her bottom lip in response. "Are you okay with what happened last night?"

Nodding vigorously, Saryn cuddled closer to John. "I'm fine, Sweetie," she promised. "In fact, I kinda wanted to talk to you about everything."

"Okay," he answered hesitantly. What could she possibly want to say? "What's wrong, pretty girl?"

Nervously, Saryn swallowed hard and cleared her throat. She ran a finger down John's bare chest, fixated on the ripple of his hard muscles beneath his taught flesh. "Well," she started, clearing her throat again. "I was thinking about last night, and I was wondering how you would feel about maybe, possibly, doing it more often."

The suggestion hung in the air, as though she had made a gruesome confession. While he couldn't say it was out of character for her, the entire concept shocked John nonetheless. "You wanna fuck other people?" he asked incredulously.

Saryn shook her head, grabbing his neck and pulling him into a desparate, hungry kiss. Releasing him, she stared at him with wet, hopeful eyes. "No, John," she pleaded with him to understand. "God, I love you, baby. I don't need anyone else."

Considering her with a skeptical eye, John tried to see things from his girlfriend's perspective. "But you wanna sleep with other people," he stated, repeating what she had said. Or, at least, what he had heard.

"No," Saryn insisted again, her expression horrified at the insinuation. "I'm not a slut, John. I don't wanna just sleep with everybody."

The confusion clouding his brain made cognitive thought impossible. Scooting back on the bed, John struggled to fully take in his lover. "What exactly do you want, Saryn?"

She knew that he would be hesitant, but Saryn truly believed that she could convince John that this idea could work for them. "Look, I know it's unconventional, but Randy and I were talking," she started.

"Randy? You and Randy were talking?" Laughing, John ran a hand over his head and wished to hell that he was still asleep. "That's what you want? To fuck Randy whenever you feel like it?"

Saryn punched the headboard, expelling a long sigh of frustration. "No!" she defended. "It's not just fucking, John. That's not what I want," she stopped, pinching the bridge of her nose as she attempted to voice her proposition in a way that he would not only understand, but accept. "It would be a polygamous relationship."

"A poly," John started, his eyes wide at the mere prospect. "You want to date both of us? At the same time?" It was the most absurd thing he had ever heard, so much so that he was tempted to ask if she was still drunk. After seven years together, he felt he should have been able to spot a crazy thought from a mile off. Instead, he found himself wondering if he had ever known this woman at all.

Taking his hand, Saryn thought about the book she had been reading on polygamy. "It's not like you'll be sharing me," she explained. "It's more like one big, happy, functional relationship between the three of us."

Licking his lips, John spoke slowly, as if addressing a three-year-old. As far as he was concerned, that was Saryn's functioning brain level at the moment. "So, not only do you want to date Randy," he started, shaking his head, "but you want me to date him, too?" When Saryn nodded, John stood from the bed and rested his hands on his hips. "Woman, have you lost your motherfucking mind?"


	2. I Think It Could Work

**Three's a Crowd**

**A/N: To say that we are blown away by the response to the first chapter of this story would be a total understatement. Damn. So I was going to hold off on the second chapter for a couple of days, but with the overwhelming response, we decided to throw some more at ya a little sooner. Enjoy!

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"Just hear me out, John," Saryn pleaded, pushing her dark hair behind her ears as she rose to her knees on the bed.

But John wasn't interested in hearing her out. "Oh, I think I've heard enough," he spat, his eyes focused on her with a confused intensity. He had considered some pretty crazy things before, some things that would scare his normal female fan base. But never, in his twenty-nine years, had he ever even entertained a notion remotely close to what Saryn was proposing now.

Backing off of the bed, Saryn faced off against her boyfriend from the opposite side. "John, Randy is your best friend," she reminded. "He's known both of us as long as we've known each other," she began to build her case, as though it would somehow change his mind. "He practically lives with us anyway," she added.

It was true that Randy spent as much time at the couple's home in Tampa as he did at his own in St. Louis. But somehow, John didn't see that as justification for the idea Saryn was trying pass off as valid. "So what do you want me to say? _'Hey, Orton, since your here anyway, why don't you just get naked and fuck my girlfriend? I'll just sit over here in the corner and watch, and then, when you're done, you can sit over here and watch me fuck her some more?' _Do you realize how completely fucking retarded that is?"

"It's not about the sex, John!" Saryn shouted, her blonde hair swishing around her shoulders as she shook her head. "It's about sharing what we have with someone else that we love. Someone who deserves all of the happiness that we have."

He knew his voice was rising, but John didn't care. The proposition alone was enough to make his head spin and he wanted to shake his girlfriend until her common sense rattled back into place. "Last I knew, Orton was doin' just fine on his own. He gets more ass than anyone I have ever met, including me!"

"God dammit, John!" Saryn erupted, kicking the side of the bed as her voice cracked under the strain of her volume. "It's not about the fucking sex. He can fuck whoever he wants - it doesn't mean he's happy!"

Crossing his arms and clearing his throat before he said something he couldn't take back, John blinked his eyes and ran a hand over his hair. "What makes you think that a pity girlfriend is going to make him happy, Saryn? Because that's what you're proposing. That you take him in, like a lost puppy, and give him a home and some kisses before bed." Raising an eyebrow, he gave his girlfriend a crystal look that left no room for confusion as to his meaning. "Unless you want to give him more than that."

Saryn took a step backward, nearly falling off the edge of the bed. What had seemed like a good idea a few hours earlier was crumbling around her. The look of hurt in John's eyes broke her heart in an instant as she allowed the enormity of what she was asking wash over her. "I just thought," she started, biting her lip as she stared at her acryllic nails, "Last night, you said it was hot. Fucking me while someone else watched? You said it was fucking hot," she repeated his words as tears welled up in her eyes.

His shoulders relaxed as John studied his girlfriend's wilting form. Taking some satisfaction in the fact that she seemed to be backing down, he stepped to the edge of the bed and nudged her leg with his. "Baby," he said softly, waiting until she met his gaze to continue. "I was drunk last night. Off my ass, couldn't spell my own name if you asked me, drunk. So were you, and so was Orton. I'm pretty sure we all said and did a lot of things last night that were a little out of character."

Sniffling, Saryn watched as John lowered his bulky frame next to hers and reached out for her hand. Weaving her fingers through his, she clung to his touch and rested her head on his shoulder. "You're right," she conceded.

With a sigh, John released his girlfriend's hand and wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her close to his chest. "I don't ever want you to feel trapped, Pretty Girl," he confessed. "If you're not happy. . . if you want to be with someone else," he started.

But Saryn silenced him with another kiss, nuzzling her nose against his for a brief moment before resting her palm on his face. Her thumb moved slowly over his smooth cheek as she studied his deep eyes. "I'm happy. I just figured, ya know," she stopped, pulling away from him, "maybe, after so long together, you might be getting a little bored."

Standing, John pulled Saryn from the bed and lifted her into his arms. "I'm never bored with you," he insisted, kissing her forehead before walking toward the bathroom. "And if you wanna shake it up, just let me know - I'll buy you some nipple clamps, maybe a couple anal plugs. I can tie you up, blindfold you, spank ya a little. Take you out the woods and fuck you up against a tree," he winked. When Saryn raised an interested eyebrow, he let out a sigh of relief that she had let the concept go so easily. "Or you could just let me fuck you up the ass again," he added.

She smacked his back as John put her feet on the floor and bent over the tub to start the shower. Running her foot up the back of his thigh, she giggled when he let out a low moan. "John?" He checked the water with one hand and turned, offering her the other. "I really do love you," she reiterated.

With a mischievious grin, he grabbed her and lifted her feet from the floor, dropping her easily into the steady stream of the shower. "I really do love you, too," he laughed as she squealed and pulled him into the water with her.

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"You sure you don't want anything?" John asked for the third time as he parked the rental car in front of the McDonald's next to the airport.

From the back seat, Saryn nodded and pressed a button on her IPod, watching carefully as her boyfriend shut the driver's side door and jogged toward the restaurant. Pulling the earbuds away from her face, she leaned forward, resting her chin on the back of Randy's seat.

Turning his head slowly, Randy allowed his eyes to rest on the cherubic face staring back at him. "What's up, Cutie?" he asked, a slow smirk spreading over his lips.

"He didn't go for it," she conceded, her voice barely above a whisper in his ear.

Randy fought the shiver that her breath on his ear caused, shifting in his seat to create some distance. "I told you," he reminded. "It's cool, though, Sar. It's probably better that way." While he wouldn't deny he was disappointed, he couldn't say he was surprised.

Reaching over the seat, Saryn ran a soft hand down Randy's arm. "What if it's not?"

Immediately, Randy felt his blood rushing south. For as long as he had known her, Saryn Foster had held some sort of secret power over him. She could get him to do things other people, and his own brain, told him were stupid ideas. Drugs, alcohol, sex with women he would have never looked at otherwise. It could all be attributed to his weakness for Saryn. And he was fairly certain she knew it.

"What if he really doesn't know what's best?" she asked again, her fingernail brushing over his chin. "What if we could make it work?"

"Yeah, well, until he realizes," Randy stopped cold. Her brown eyes studied him carefully, and whether he wanted to be or not, he couldn't help getting lost in the dark chocolate puddles. "Saryn," he muttered under his breath.

Inching closer, Saryn zeroed in on the pouty lips before her. She loved John. She really loved him. But being with Randy the night before had done something to her that she couldn't explain. For seven years, he had been the "little brother." He was just John's friend. But in those early morning hours, with her buzz wearing off, he became something else. Something far less innocent and friendly.

Glancing over her head, Randy saw John approaching through the back window. "He's back," was all he said as Saryn leaned over the center console to crank the Ludacris song on the radio.

Tossing a bag to Randy, John jumped into the car and gunned the engine. "Ready to rock and roll, Kids?" he asked.

Saryn leaned forward and kissed John's cheek, laughing when he made a goofy face at her in the rearview mirror. Randy had set her body on fire, but John was the one who would always hold her heart. And if she had her way, both her body and heart would be happy for the rest of their natural lives.


	3. Crinkle Fries and Submission Moves

**Three's a Crowd**

**A/N: Okay, you guys are really starting to make me feel overwhelmed! Your response to this story has gone above and beyond our expectations, and I'm honored that so many of you are reading it and enjoying it. To those of you who have voiced concerns over Saryn's character at this point, to those of you who think she's a selfish ho, I have only one question for you: Would you feel the same way if Randy were the aggressor? Just something I was wondering. Enjoy! Oh, this chapter contains sexual content.**

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Saryn had never really minded flying. She had never had a problem with airports, or security check points, or overpriced meals that wouldn't fill her until she reached her destination. She actually enjoyed hanging out, waiting for her flight while watching couples, families, and single travellers rushing toward their gates. 

What she didn't like was being delayed. John had a tight schedule, and he was pretty heavily protected. Finding time alone with him was hard enough on the road, and if she missed a connecting flight or managed to arrive at the hotel late, there wasn't a chance she would get to see the very man she had flown across the country to visit.

"Next time, I'm driving," she bitched to herself as she wrestled her suitcase out of the cab in front of the hotel. Hastily throwing a couple of bills to the driver, she moved toward the entrance, praying that she hadn't already missed John. When she had learned that her connecting flight would be delayed for an hour, she had called him in tears. And he had promised that everything would work out, that they couldn't control the flight schedule, and that he would make sure the trip wasn't a total waste.

Dialing her phone, she stepped into the lobby of the impressive hotel, anxiously waiting for him to answer. As she tapped her foot, she surveyed the lobby, silently cursing him for not answering on the first ring. It wasn't his fault, but she was grouchy and tired. All she wanted was to fall into the arms of the man she loved. "Pick up," she demanded, growling when she was directed to his voicemail.

A frenzy of activity swarmed behind her, drawing Saryn's attention to the ground floor elevators. Smiling in spite of herself, she walked a few steps to where John had just made his appearance, stopping to sign a few autographs for the small boys who had been awaiting his arrival. She hung back patiently, a warmth spreading through her as her boyfriend worked the miniature crowd like a true professional.

When the last of the kids had thanked him, he turned to his agent and nodded. "Give me a minute," he said, closing the gap between himself and his girlfriend in a few steps. "Hey, you," he smiled brightly, pressing his lips to hers in greeting.

"You're leaving, aren't you?" Saryn asked, pouting slightly as she rested her arms around his neck. When John nodded, she stomped her foot and took a step back. "I fucking hate flying."

Amusement danced in John's eyes as he watched her whine. "I love you," he laughed, kissing her again until one of the guys behind him tugged on the sleeve of his jacket. "Come to the arena," he instructed, though he knew she grew bored quickly when she came to work with him. "Bring me Subway."

Saryn agreed reluctantly, watching sadly until he was out of sight. Though he'd been a wrestler for as long as she had known him, she couldn't help longing for good old days sometimes. Back when she was a student at the University of Louisville, working part time at GNC, he was always around. Sometimes more than she wanted him to be. Even when he started traveling with the company, she'd been in awe. Seeing new cities, watching him give interviews, attending signings, and witnessing photo shoots had all been exciting parts of the life they were working to build together.

Seven years later, she found it far less breathtaking. The older she got, the more she found herself wishing that he was around more, that they could truly settle down and start building an established life together. With his growing success, he had come home less often, and she found herself forced to go to him if they were going to be together. Most of the time, she didn't mind. Sometimes, though, she hated it more than anything.

Checking the key she had received at the front desk, she stepped off the elevator and sighed. Another empty hotel room. More waiting. Another boring afternoon of doing everything she could have been doing at home. Instead of inserting the key, she flipped her phone open again. "What are you doing?" she asked when the voice answered.

She received no answer, but smiled to herself when a door near her swung open. Moving toward it, she threw herself at Randy, wrapping her arms around his neck tightly. "Miss me?" she asked when he pulled her into the room.

Randy took a moment to look over the woman standing before him. Her tight jeans rested comfortably on her hips while her thermal top had been left unbuttoned, showing just enough cleavage to leave a man wanting to see more. Her blonde hair was piled high in a ponytail, accentuating her long neck and heart-shaped face. "I always miss you, Cutie," he acknowledged honestly.

Any awkwardness between them since the previous month's threesome had all but dissipated in the following weeks. They were friends first, and both seemed to sense the importance of keeping that relationship intact. Besides that, John meant too much to either of them to risk it by pressing their attraction any further.

"So whatcha watchin'?" Saryn asked, moving toward the bed in Randy's room and throwing herself against the soft mattress. Kicking her sneakers to the floor, she crossed her ankles and propped herself up on her elbows as she turned her head to the side. "How did she get herself into that position?" she asked curiously.

Randy blushed as he moved to grab the remote. "Um," he stammered, clicking the power button until the porn disappeared. "So, what brings you to town?" he asked awkwardly, falling onto the bed beside Saryn.

Laughing, she punched his shoulder playfully and pulled her legs up, crossing them Indian style when she turned toward his reclining body. Even dressed in a tee shirt and track pants, he was hot. "Oh, ya know," she started to explain. "I was kinda hungry. Heard Milwaukee had good crinkle fries," she added, smiling when Randy rolled his eyes. "What?"

"You and your damn crinkle fries," he shook his head, thinking about the night she and John had debated which was better, crinkle or curly fries, for nearly an hour. She had just moved into the Tampa house, and Randy had been wrangled in to help move her massive furniture. All he had wanted was sleep, but they refused to let him go before their french fry conversation was finished.

Saryn just nodded and reached out a hand, smacking his hard thigh. "Who you fightin' tonight?" she asked randomly, withdrawing her hand as quickly as she had extended it.

"Edge," he answered without thinking, flipping the television back on and searching for something a little safer than what he had been watching. Though the pair had shared more than enough innuendo and filthy humor over the years, he had to believe that watching porn with her would lead to something he couldn't take back. "Why?" he asked after a long moment of silence.

Settling against the headboard, Saryn brushed Randy's shoulder with her own. "John wants me to bring him dinner. I just figured if I had to be there," she paused and cast a sideways glance at the kid to her left, "I might as well watch you get your ass kicked again."

Grunting, Randy smirked and shook his head, his eyes twinkling slightly. "Keep pushin', Foster," he warned. "You're the reason I get my ass kicked as much as I do."

Feigning innocence, Saryn gasped softly. "I told you to wait until after the show to smoke the joint," she reminded. "You're the genius who lit up in the locker room." When he nudged her with his shoulder, she giggled. "If you ask me, that damned side headlock is why you lose so many matches."

"There is nothing wrong with my side headlock," Randy defended for what felt like the hundredth time. She just loved to goad him about how often he used that particular move.

With her eyes focused on the television, Saryn grabbed a water bottle from the bedside table and swallowed with a gulp. "It might be effective," she stated with a shrug. "What the hell do I know about wrestling. But it's boring as hell to watch," she added. "Just looks like you're hugging the guy."

Snapping his arms out, Randy applied the very move she had been complaining about, pulling the woman at his side closer. "Uh huh," he agreed as she cursed and squirmed against him. "Not so boring now, is it?"

Elbowing him in the gut, Saryn scurried out of his reach and wrapped her legs around his. "And this is what? A figure four? It doesn't even hurt," she laughed when he grabbed her legs and held them in the air. Resting his own ankles over her shoulders, he pinned her to the mattress. "Oh, now that's just dirty," she winked, wrapping her arms around his calves and struggling to sit.

Though he had about a hundred pounds on her, Randy was surprised by Saryn's strength as she slid out from under his grasp. "Impressive," he nodded when she stood at the foot of the bed and smoothed her hands over her shirt.

"Yeah, I got it like that," she sighed, resting her hands on her hips. "Face it, Orton," she added with a smirk. "You wouldn't stand a chance against me in a real match."

Randy couldn't control the laughter that bubbled up in his throat as she stared him down, looking as though she truly believed what she had just said. "Alright," he conceded, turning his attention back to the television. "Whatever helps you sleep at night," he added under his breath.

"I have watched you and John do this shit for seven years, man," she exclaimed, sliding back onto the bed beside Randy. "I think I know a thing or two."

Without warning, Randy grabbed Saryn again, pulling her back against his chest and wrapping his legs around her waist and his arms around her neck. "You'd tap in a second," he whispered against her ear.

Saryn couldn't help squirming at the feeling of his breath on her face. As though working without her permission, her brain conjured images of their torrid affair, sending her body heat through the roof. "Let me try," she spoke in a voice that felt foreign.

Relaxing his grip, Randy turned on his side, offering his back to the woman behind him. When she wrapped him up, he knew that it was a bad idea. Instead of applying the pressure of the hold, Saryn dragged her tongue along his neck, over his shoulder, and toward his earlobe. Gently tugging the lobe between her teeth, she pressed her body further into his back.

Randy could feel his blood flow take an abrupt southward turn. Though he'd tried everything in his power to wash their night out of his mind, the way her body rode his waist brought everything back in full, technicolor surround sound. "Sar," he breathed, slipping out of her embrace and covering her body with his.

Saryn spread her legs to accomadate his weight, and groaned into his mouth as she felt his erection against her heat. When his tongue slid over hers, Saryn arched her back, her hands holding his cheeks as she pressed his face to hers. It had been all she could think of since entering his room, since seeing the naked woman on his television screen. She knew, instantly, that he had been wanting a release, and she wanted nothing more than to give it to him.

As Randy slid his hands from Saryn's waist, gliding them along her heated flesh, he tore his lips from hers, gasping for much-needed air. She was intoxicating, causing his head to spin in several directions at once. Dipping his head again, he tasted the sweetness of her shoulder, nipping playfully as she thrust her hips toward his.

The feeling of his heated breath against the hollow of her throat caused Saryn to grasp the pillows at her sides, her body prone for his attention. "Yes," she hissed softly, licking her lips and arching further into him. She could feel his hardened shaft against her folds, moving slowly as Randy rotated his hips against her. Not since high school had dry-humping felt so damn good.

Pulling insistently at her top, Randy was determined to expose more of her body. Until she reached between their bodies and tugged the hem from her jeans, tearing the shirt over her head to reveal a matching, demi cup bra that pushed her full breasts tantalyzingly close together. He could only stare deftly when she laid back down and spread her arms once again.

And then, as if his sense clicked in his brain, Randy shook his head and pulled away, sitting up and rolling to his side. "We can't do this," he said sadly, running his hand over his face as he sighed heavily.

The desire that had been pooling in Saryn's gut gurgled for attention. "What's wrong?" she asked, shifting on the bed until her pert nipples peaked over the cups of her bra.

The war raging in his head was nothing compared to the one below Randy's waist. She was beautiful. A vixen if he had ever seen one. But she was his best friend's girl. And as much as he wanted to forget that fact, he couldn't get the image of John out of his head. He barely noticed when Saryn took his hand, guiding it to her breast and running his long fingers over her hardened pebbles.

Convinced that she would just have to encourage him a bit, Saryn continued to move Randy's hand over her chest, her eyes closed as she enjoyed the heat they were exchanging. When he failed to respond on his own, she lifted his hand to her mouth, sucking one of the long digits between her moist lips. Her tongue circled his middle finger, and Saryn smiled seductively when Randy shot her a look of surprise.

"What are you doing?" he asked. She only shrugged. "Saryn," he warned, making no move to pull away from her. It was wrong, but it felt so damn good. "You know he wouldn't," he started.

But Saryn lifted one of her own fingers to Randy's pouty lips and shook her head, expelling his hand from her mouth with her expert tongue. "This is about us," she explained. "I want you, Randy." Working the front clasp of her bra, she watched his gaze as the garment fell open. Taking a deep breath, she ran her free hand from her throat, dragging it through the valley of her breasts before it came to rest on her stomach. "God, I want you so bad."

_Fuck_, he thought, taking both of her hands in his and holding them firmly to the mattress on either side of them. Straddling her, he bent low and captured her ear with his teeth, just as she had earlier. "What do you want?" he growled softly, smirking at the whimper that escaped her lips.

Though she said nothing, she freed one of her hands. Grasping the back of his head, she guided him toward her breast, holding him in place as he nipped at the baby soft skin. John had a skilled tongue, and one that she loved more than just about anything else about his anatomy. But Randy was about to make her come without even removing her pants. Other than the friction of his hips against hers, he'd yet to touch her below her torso, and yet she could feel her release building already.

Sitting up on his haunches, Randy tore his tee shirt over his head and then rolled onto his back. "Come here," he instructed, watching as she moved toward him. When she laid herself on top of him, he gently tapped the backs of her thighs. "Can you get on your knees for me, Cutie?" he asked softly. She did as he asked, and Randy took a moment to enjoy the view of her topless form. "Bend over here," he smiled, his tongue barely peeking out between his lips.

Saryn did as he asked, bracing herself with her hands on either side of his head. When Randy began to trail his fingers over her arms, raising his head to lick and kiss her breasts again, she thought she would fall onto him. Crawling inches forward, she dipped her shoulders, watching his face as he held her left globe loosely and sucked more of the right into his mouth. The feeling of his teeth nibbling softly on her nipple, followed by an immediate soothing lick, set her on fire, causing her to groan. "God, yes," she murmered through parted lips.

Opening his blue eyes, Randy watched her face as it twisted in sweet agony. "Look at me, Sar," he whispered, his lips twitching in a hint of his trademark smirk. "Watch me." He resumed his hungry licking and sucking ritual, his eyes fixated on hers.

She lowered her hips to his, grinding against him as she chewed her bottom lip and steadied her gaze on his full lips wrapped around her. "Mmm, yeah, baby," she sighed, moving her hands to the top of the headboard and dropping her head between her shoulders. "That's it," she added, her eyes drifting closed of their own accord.

When Randy grew tired of her breasts, he slid his body further down the bed, trailing his moist tongue along the flesh of her abdomen. With his hands on the button of her jeans, he lapped at her belly button, smiling when her muscles constricted beneath his attention.

Raising her head again, Saryn released a giggle, tears pricking her eyes as she revelled in the amazing foreplay. "They're kinda tight," she warned Randy as he slid the zipper down and began to roll her pants over her hips.

"Perfect," he mumbled, moving his tongue to the waistband of her low-rise panties. Licking along the band, he slid his hand over the center seam, following it slowly as it curved between her long legs. The heat that greeted touch turned him on even more, along with the moisture beginning to form. He could only imagine how wet she was for him.

"ORTON!"

The knock on the door shattered the silence of the moment, causing Saryn to fall onto Randy's body, his face buried in her belly. "Oomph," he grunted as she fought to stifle her laughter while rolling off of him. "What?!?" he shouted in response, sitting on the bed and shifting to avoid his aching erection.

"WE GOTTA GO IN FIVE MINUTES! COME ON!"

"Who is that?" Saryn whispered urgently, reaching for her bra and shirt.

Randy rolled his eyes and rubbed her thigh. "Hell if I know," he grunted, bending over the side of the bed for his own shirt. He'd lost track of the time during the course of his make-out session, and cursed himself for getting so worked up before he had to leave. Twisting his body back toward Saryn, he placed a soft kiss on the swell of her breast and stood from the bed. "Excuse me for a minute."

Saryn pulled her shirt over her head and laughed at the sight of Randy's form waddling toward the bathroom. "You need some help in there? Wanna take a magazine or something?"

Flipping her off, Randy stepped into the bathroom and rested his hand on the door frame, allowing her an unobstructed view of his shaft through his basketball shorts. "I think I've got plenty up here," he tapped the side of his head and then licked his lips. "I'm not gonna forget that any time soon."

With a blush, she lowered her eyes as he shut the door. _Neither am I, Orton_, she thought, savoring the taste of him on her mouth. _We are so not finished with this yet._


	4. For Life

**Three's a Crowd**

By the time John let himself into his hotel room, it was nearly two o'clock in the morning. He had promised Saryn that he would make her trip worthwhile, and he was feeling like an enormous failure. By the time he wrapped his signing and made his way into the arena, she had already been waiting in his dressing room for over an hour. Scarfing down the dinner that she had brought, he had kissed her and promised to take her out for a nice dinner after the show. Unfortunately, a last minute meeting with some contest winners had nipped that plan in the bud, as well.

Expecting her to be in bed already, John was shocked to find his girlfriend seated in the center of the bed, her legs pulled up, her face buried in her knees. "Hey, Pretty Girl," he whispered, giving his eyes a moment to adjust to the dim lighting from the bedside lamp.

Saryn wiped her hands over her cheeks, raising her head and attempting a smile through trembling lips. "Hey," she croaked.

Without hesitation, John moved to the bed, wrapping his arms around his girlfriend. He hated to see any woman cry, but Saryn's tears broke his heart in a way nobody else's ever could. Pushing a strand of hair behind her ears, he kissed her forehead. "Talk about it?"

"I'm a skank," Saryn sniffled, pulling back from his embrace to study her manicured nails.

John's eyebrow shot up. "You're a what?" he asked, chuckling slightly at the ridiculous statement.

But Saryn wasn't kidding. "I'm a skank," she repeated, rolling her eyes and letting out an exhausted breath. "According to your fans down there, and half the internet, I'm a treachorous whore," she added.

Tucking her into another hug, John laughed louder. "Sweetie, you're not a treachorous whore," he assured her, his hands running up and down her back. Saryn just nodded into his chest. "Why would you think that? Because a few girls who know nothing about you say that you are? Baby, they don't know anything about you," he insisted. Gripping her shoulders, he pulled her back and pierced her dark eyes with his own crystal gaze. "They don't see what I see."

"I have to tell you something," Saryn said suddenly, scooting back from his touch. "And you're not going to like it," she added softly, her eyes focused on the gawdy comforter between them.

John reached for her hand, holding it gently in his. "What is it, Pretty Girl?"

Gathering every ounce of strength she could muster, Saryn thought again about what she was about to say. Once she told John the truth, she couldn't take it back. And she knew there was every possibility that he would just kick her out of the room and never speak to her again. But she loved him, and he deserved to know the truth.

"I kissed Randy today," she admitted, her voice barely audible above the hum of the air conditioner. "More than kissed him," she groaned, covering her face with her hands as a fresh batch of tears flooded her cheeks.

With his hand over his mouth, John took a moment to compose himself. It would have hurt less if Saryn had just kicked him in the groin. She said that it was over, that she was giving up on the idea of having them both. She said that she loved him, and that she didn't need anyone else. "I thought we were droppin' that," was all he could think to say.

Her defenses shot up, but Saryn forced them back down as she leaned against the head board of the bed. He hadn't started yelling yet, so that was a good thing, as far as she was concerned. For more than three hours, she had been trying to convince herself that he didn't need to know. She had tried telling herself that it was a mistake, that everything she had wanted with Randy was ridiculous because she already had it with John. She could push it down. She didn't have to make a big deal out of it.

And then he had walked into the room. With his arms around her, he had comforted her, promising her that she was better than his fans said she was. He deserved better. After seven years together, he deserved her honesty. He deserved her respect. He deserved the truth.

"I thought I could," she told him, risking a glance into his wounded eyes. "I thought that I could just let it go like you did, but I couldn't," she confessed. "I can't," she ammended. "I just can't stop myself from asking all of the 'what if's' and wondering what it would be like."

John wasn't sure Saryn realized how much she had changed him over time. With her, he couldn't seem to find anger in an argument. He could get frustrated, and more than a few times, he had been irritated. But when they had differences in opinion, she had taught him to listen to her point of view. She had proven to him over time that she was open-minded, and non-judgemental. There was nothing he could tell her, about his feelings or himself, that would turn her away. On the flip side, there was nothing he could tell her about herself that offended her. She always listened, and he had learned to do the same.

In reality, they had a relationship that most would envy. Instead of fighting, they had long discussions about how each could compromise to improve whatever situation needed fixing. They worked together - they were a team. Their motto, as a couple, was "For Life," and John knew that they could get through this glitch just like they had every other one that had been thrown their way over the last seven years.

"So you want Randy," John said finally, watching her eyes for any non-verbal that might give him insight to her thoughts. "Ya know what kills me about that, Saryn?"

Nibbling on her thumbnail, Saryn awaited his next words. "John," she started to explain, but he just shook his head, signifying that she would get her turn.

John gritted his teeth and thought about the words that would help him describe how he was feeling. Though they had a great system of communication, he was still a guy at heart. Talking about his emotions was never going to be easy. "It seems like you're having a really hard time just being with me lately," he said. "I know it's easy to get bored, to get comfortable after awhile together," he added.

Shaking her head, Saryn reached a hand out to cover his foot. "You don't bore me, Sweetie," she said honestly. "I really don't know what it is about Randy that's suddenly so appealing. I mean, he used to be our friend. That was it. Just Orton," she sighed, shaking her head as flashes of memories assaulted her senses again. "And then that night happened," she whispered, lowering her eyes again.

That night. His brithday. Though John was still sketchy on the details, he couldn't help feeling like he had to shoulder some of the blame for the issues in his relationship now. When Saryn had been dancing on the table, Randy had leaned over on the couch and said something about John being a lucky bastard. John, feeling drunkenly generous, had offered to let Randy share the wealth. He had started the whole sick cycle carousel, so could he really blame anyone else for the fall out?

"Is it just that you want to sleep with him?" he asked, nudging her hand until she met his gaze. "Is it a carnal urge?" he repeated one of her favorite sayings. "Or do you want something else? Are you in love with him?"

Her first instinct was to launch herself at him and deny it until her lips fell off. Instead, she sighed and laced her fingers through his. As much as she knew he struggled to voice his feelings, Saryn was struggling, too. There was no way to say what she was thinking without hurting the man that she loved. "I've always loved him, John," she said. "He's always been around, ya know? He's the one that introduced us in the first place," she reminded, smiling at the memory of that first meeting in the power shake aisle at GNC. "He's one of my closest friends, but he's not you.

"Johnny, the love I have for you is in a completely different league," she choked around the lump rising in her throat. "Am I lookin' at Orton in a new way lately? Yeah, I am. I want him. But you," she sniffled and leaned forward, resting her forehead against his, "I need you, Cena." Licking her lips, she smiled slightly. "I wouldn't know how to live without you."

Everything in his mind said that it was a bad idea, that caving to her wishes would never work. But there was nothing John wanted more than to make Saryn happy. Every accomplishment, every professional achievement, paled in comparison to seeing her brown eyes gleam with joy, and knowing that he was the one making her happy. "Alright, so I have a proposal," he said, flipping around on the bed until he was at her side, pulling her into his arms. "I'm gonna think about it, okay?"

"You are?" Saryn asked, complete shock filling her chest at his statement.

"I am," he laughed at her reaction, hugging her softly. "And I'm gonna try my best not to freak if you wanna keep hangin' out with Orton without me," he added, hoping like hell that he could keep that part of the bargain. "But I don't want you to sleep with him. Not until I've had a chance to figure out what it would take to make this thing work."

It was a better answer than she could have ever hoped for, and Saryn relaxed against her boyfriend's shoulder with a deep exhale of breath she hadn't even realized she was holding. "I can deal with that," she said.

Slipping from the bed, John pulled Saryn by the hand and held her face in his hands. Covering her lips with his, he tasted her flavor and rested his forehead against hers. "You know I love you, right?" She nodded and giggled, wiping a stray tear from her eye. "I don't know how I'd live without you, either, Pretty Girl," he sighed, stuffing one hand into his pocket as she crushed another bruising kiss to his lips.

"You and me," she laughed, pulling back to wipe a thin line of saliva from his lips with her thumb. "For life."


	5. Unchartered Territory

**Three's a Crowd**

"OH! Did you SEE that? Fuck, that was beautiful!"

John rolled his eyes and continued working the controller in his hand while getting his ass handed to him on the television screen. Randy was perched on the edge of the couch, violently stabbing at the buttons, his tongue trapped between his lips as he continued his assault on his friend.

Settled back on the couch, John leaned on one one elbow as he lazily tried to pretend he gave a damn about the game. Normally, it would be the perfect day off. Today, his head was too full of other crap to focus on the task at hand.

"Can I ask you a question?" John asked. Randy just nodded distractedly. "How do you feel about all this menage a trois business?"

Stopping cold, Randy grimaced as virtual John lifted him into the air and slammed him to the mat. "You did that shit on purpose, didn't you?" When John winked, Randy punched his friend's thigh and went back to the game at hand. "It's a totally fucked up idea," he finally said.

John couldn't argue with that statement. "Sar said that she talked to you about it. She said you were all for it," he said.

Randy bit his full, bottom lip and thought about how to best tackle the question beind addressed by his friend. Did he tell the truth and admit that he'd spent more than a few minutes thinking about his best friend's girl? Or did he lie through his teeth and pretend that he thought the whole thing was ridiculous?

With a sigh, he paused the game and turned his head, taking in the pensive look on John's face. When they're eyes met, the two old friends smiled brightly and shook their heads. No words were needed. They were both thinking the same thing. "She's pretty fuckin' incredible, isn't she?" John asked.

Nodding, Randy turned his attention back to the video game. "She's somethin' alright," he muttered under his breath, trying to get back into the game. "Damn persuasive," he added when the thought of Saryn just wouldn't leave his mind. "I mean, we were talkin' about it, and I knew it was a stupid idea," he laughed, shaking his head as he thought about what they all now termed "that night."

Wordlessly, they settled into another game. Each of their heads reeled with unaskable questions, but neither made another move to speak. They were men. They didn't talk about shit. Especially not relationship shit.

"Dude, what the hell? You just let me take your head off!" Randy exclaimed, turning his head to see John toss his controller into his lap. With a heavy sigh, Randy paused the game and sank back on the couch. "It's not supposed to be like this," he said sadly. "Shit's not supposed to be weird. Not with us."

John nodded his head slowly. It was true. They were boys. Since their first days together in OVW, something had clicked between the two. Sometimes Randy's childish rants got on John's nerves. Sometimes John's incessant rapping annoyed Randy to no end. But they were down to ride for life. Nothing was supposed to come between them. Least of all, a woman.

"Do you even want to pursue it?" John asked suddenly. What if Saryn had caught Randy as off-guard as she had taken him? What if his friend hadn't even given it another thought? That would certainly make his decision a whole lot easier.

Shrugging, Randy leaned back and ran his hands over his face. "I don't even know what it means, man."

With a deep breath, he crossed his arms and turned his eyes to the one man he could always count on to be one hundred percent honest with him. "How does it work?"

John shook his head and leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "From what I've read, there aren't really rules. You just kinda talk about the boundaries and make it up as you go along," he answered.

"You researched it?" Randy's eyebrow shot up in disbelief.

With a withering look, John blushed slightly. "I told Saryn I would think about it."

Randy's billowing laughter filled the room as he stood and stretched his arms over his head. "She's got you doin' research? Damn," he chuckled. "And I thought she got me to do some stupid shit." With his hands on his hips, he looked down on his friend. "I just don't want this shit to fuck with us, ya know?"

With another dismissive shake of his head, John extended a fist. "Bros over hoes, man," he grunted. When Randy bumped his knuckles, John stood and looked around the living room. "You want a beer, dude?"

Before he could answer, the door opened. "Hey, fellas," Saryn smiled, her arms filled with two grocery bags. "What's goin' on in here?"

They men shared another look and shook their heads, an unspoken bond that they would not share what they had discussed. "Nothin', baby," John answered.

Randy took one of the bags from Saryn's hand as John lifted the other, leaving the woman in the middle to smirk at them. "Somethin' tells me there's something goin' on," she teased. "But since you're helping me with my bags, I'm not gonna complain." Accepting John's kiss, she slipped her tennis shoes from her feet. "I'll start dinner in a couple of hours," she announced, turning to run up the stairs before either of them could say anything else.

When John left for a photo shoot two hours later, Randy wandered the house, trying to think of anything to keep from searching for Saryn. Though she hadn't said much to him since their foreplay three weeks earlier, Randy knew that she had confessed their indescretion to John. And he knew from his earlier conversation with his friend, that he couldn't touch her again until John gave the go ahead. Not if he was interested in maintaining the best friendship he'd ever had.

Throwing the bathroom door open, Randy stepped inside, steeped in his own thoughts. Until Saryn's screech pulled him out. "Shit," he exclaimed, his eyes frozen on her face.

Completely immersed in bubbles, Saryn sat comfortably in the claw-footed tub, her blonde hair piled on top of her head, a thin sheen of sweat providing a glow over her tanned face. "What are you doing in here?" she asked, though she made no attempt to cover anymore of herself. There was no reason to, nothing was showing through her blanket of bubbles.

"I was just gonna," Randy pointed to the toilet, then to her, and then to the door. "I'm gonna go."

Smiling at his awkward behavior, Saryn shook her head. "No," she said. "It's fine. Don't worry about it."

Randy stared at the floor, a blush creeping into his cheeks. For the first time in his life, he could honestly say that he had seen a woman naked by complete accident. And it was far more embarrassing than he could have ever imagined. "I just needed to use the bathroom," he stammered.

For her part, Saryn found his fumbling demeanor adorable. "There are two bathrooms downstairs," she reminded him softly. "You didn't come up here to pee."

If he had been embarrassed before, he was downright mortified at her suggestion. Mostly because she had guessed his motivation so easily. The temptation had gotten the better of him, and he had come upstairs with the intent of finding Saryn and just hanging out like old times. But he had no idea she was naked in the tub, or he wouldn't have just barged in like he had. "John's not here," he said, inwardly kicking himself for the stupid statement.

"Relax, Orton," she laughed, waving him into the room. "We're not gonna make out again," she assured him. "We're not gonna fuck. We're just friends." For a moment, Saryn wondered if she was reminding him, or herself. The nervous way he licked his lips reminded her vividly of his tongue against her body. "We can talk like we always have, right?"

The moment he met her eyes, Randy wished that he hadn't. On legs that seemed to move of their own accord, he walked to the tub and squatted down behind her, his hands finding her shoulders beneath the bubbles. "It's only weird if we make it weird, right?" he asked, his breath brushing against her ear.

Shivers ran down Saryn's spine as she sat up a little further. Careful not to uncover herself, she tried to remember what John had asked of her. _Just don't sleep with Orton until I figure this thing out_. That's what he had said, right? She wasn't doing anything wrong, then, was she? "God, that feels good," she moaned.

Clearing his throat, Randy shifted his weight and rested on his knees, continuing to work his hands over her neck and shoulders. "So, how was work?" he asked, the question sounding ridiculous as it echoed in the bathroom.

"Long," Saryn answered. "If I didn't need something to keep me busy while you guys are on the road," she added, "I wouldn't even keep the damn thing." The feeling of Randy's fingers on the back of her neck made her smile in spite of herself. "You like that?" she asked, her voice dropping to a husky tone.

As he continued to feel the scripted tattoo at the base of her hairline, Randy felt the guilt bubbling in his gut again. Four letters, emblazoned in red, branded her to J.A.F.C., his best friend. "It's beautiful," he complimented. "Makes me feel like shit, but it's beautiful."

"Well, baby," Saryn started, shifting slightly until she could turn her face toward him, "if John goes for this three-way relationship, I'll get yours back there, too."

He knew that he was blushing again, but Randy couldn't stop himself. "He's not gonna go for it," he smiled when she rested her soapy palm on his cheek.

Resting her forehead against his, Saryn licked her lips. "That's what you said before. And he's thinking about it now," she giggled.

"What do you want from me, Sar?" Randy asked, every nerve in his body screaming to shed his clothing and jump into the tub with her. "How is this thing supposed to work?"

Pulling back a little bit, she slid her hand to his shoulder and gave him a reassuring squeeze. "I want us to be a family. All of us."

But something wasn't setting well with Randy. "What does that mean, though?" he asked, his eyes searching hers for answers. She had seen him stumble through countless relationships, most of which meant nothing, and he appreciated the fact that she wanted to give him stability. But he wasn't sure that she could give him everything that he wanted in a girlfriend. "Do you just wanna adopt me?"

The way his nose scrunched up made Saryn's heart melt. She was the first to admit that her initial reason for proposing the menage a trois was because of the physical connection she had with this man. But the longer she thought about it, the more she reflected on the past they had all spent together, she couldn't help feeling like she might be in love with both men. It was unconventional, she knew, but it was possible, wasn't it?

"I don't wanna adopt you," she answered, running her thumb over his bottom lip. "And I don't have all the answers. I don't know how it will work exactly. But I know that, if John is open to it," she considered him again, "and if you are, then we'll establish some boundaries and we'll make it work."

With a hand on the back of her neck, Randy pressed his lips to Saryn's, feeling her surrender immediately. Though it lasted only a moment, the opposing sides of his conscience nearly knocked him out. Stepping back, he looked at her sincerely. "We've got to stop doing that," he warned, running his hands over his jeans. _I'm gonna fuck everything up if we don't._

Nodding, Saryn seemed to read his mind as she turned back to her bath and submerged herself into the bubbles once more. "I know."


	6. The Gold Coast

**Three's a Crowd**

**A/N: Alright, so this chapter took a little while to post, but I hope you find it worth the wait. For some reason, I was heavily inspired by the site of John in some blue board shorts on the Marine dvd extras. Hm. Anyway - Enjoy!

* * *

**

The night air was thick, the humidity suffocating as Saryn parked her Honda Accord in front of the house and slammed the door with her hip. Gathering her thick, blond locks with one hand, she hitched her purse over her shoulder and grabbed a small shopping bag from the back seat. Growing up in Indiana, she thought she had dealt with hot summers, but it was nothing compared to the sticky air that surrounded her Florida home. Some days, she wondered if John would reconsider his refusal to move back to California. It was still warm, but not nearly as humid.

Of course, she had heaped his mental plate with more than enough thought food in the last month, and she wasn't about to ask him to make any other life-changing choices. Not until he gave her a straight answer about the situation with Randy. The fact that he was putting that one decision off as long as possible told her that he was tired of thinking about anything other than his career for awhile, and she had to be supportive if he was ever going to rule in her favor.

Opening the garage door, she gasped and dropped her bags. "What the hell are you doing?" she asked, clutching her chest as she glared at the man rifling through a pile in the corner.

"I'm lookin' for that scuba gear your mom bought us for Christmas. Did you put it out here?" John asked, his voice muffled by the large, inflatable raft resting on the back of his neck.

When she was breathing normally, she shook her head and laughed. "I took it back to the store," she reminded him, grabbing her bags from the floor and resting them on the upright tool box next to the wall. "You said, and I quote, 'When the fuck are we ever gonna use that Jacques Cousteau gear? You plannin' on explorin' the Titanic?' So I took it back," she explained. When he only grunted and stood, his face twisted in thought as his hands rested on his hips, Saryn moved to him and threw her arms around his neck.

John accepted his girlfriend's kiss, forgetting for a moment that he had come home for a reason. And that reason was running her fingernails over the back of his neck, causing a chill to shoot down his spine. "Mm," he moaned when she ran her tongue over his bottom lip, savoring her taste a second longer before pulling back and clasping his hands around her waist. Kissing the tip of her nose, he raised and eyebrow. "Missed you," he smiled.

With her eyes closed, Saryn stole another kiss and rested her cheek against his shoulder. "I thought you were on the road until tomorrow."

Lifting her into his arms, John carried his girlfriend back toward the house, kicking the door open and closed again. The rush of cool air breezed over them as John sat Saryn on the counter and stood between her open legs. With his large hands on her thighs, he leaned forward and kissed her again. "We're going on vacation," he announced.

"We're what?" Saryn asked, her arms draped around his neck as she pulled back to rest her head against the cabinets. "Do you even have time for that right now?"

He shrugged slightly. "You watch the show last night?" When she nodded, he smiled proudly. "I got the shit kicked outta me. Put me outta commission for the next week, at least," he explained. "Because the Champ has reservations at the Hyatt on the Gold Coast," he winked.

"The Gold," Saryn started, her jaw dropping. "John, we can't just run off to Australia. Is this a spur of the moment thing? Because I admire your spontaneity," she started, but he cut her off with another kiss.

Shaking his head, he lifted her from the counter and sat her feet on the floor. "I got the time off, and the reservations, six months ago," he informed her, weaving his fingers through hers and leading her up the stairs. "I've got all of our bathroom stuff packed, and everything from your vanity. My clothes are over there," he began to lay out the plan as the entered the bedroom. "All you gotta do is throw your clothes in on top of mine, and we'll be good to go," he clapped his hands together, watching her take in everything he was saying with her hands over her mouth. "Pretty girl?" he asked, stepping behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist, his chin resting on her shoulder. "Our anniversary is Thursday."

Of course, she knew that. And she had planned to give him tickets to a Red Sox game and a weekend in Boston when the baseball season rolled around. And now he was offering to fly her around the world. "This sounds like something I would spring on you," she laughed, twisting in his arms to kiss him again. "Thank you for this."

Nodding, John rubbed his hands over her back and then cast his glance to the clock by the wall. "You're welcome." Releasing her, he spun her toward the dresser and patted her back side. "Now pack. Our flight leaves at six."

---

"I can't believe how amazing this view is," Saryn sighed, resting her weight against the balcony railing outside of their penthouse suite. Two days after arriving in the Land Down Under, the couple had absolutely no need for the scuba gear John had been seeking. They hadn't left the room since checking in, and neither were complaining.

John stood in the doorway, draped only in his boxer briefs, a bottle of Aussie beer dangling between his fingers. "You've seen it before," he reminded, smiling when she turned and shot him a million-watt smile.

Nearly three years earlier, when John had been filming his first movie, the couple had spent four months in the same suite they were inhabiting now. It was no accident that John had demanded the accommodations for this visit, as well. The look on Saryn's face when she had surveyed the view back then would be burned into his brain forever.

Pushing off of the railing, Saryn walked toward her boyfriend, one foot carefully placed in front of the other until she reached him, pressing her robe-wrapped body against his. "But you're not getting paid to be someone else's husband this time," she whispered.

"Nope," John agreed, grabbing Saryn into his arms and taking her back to the bed. She fell to the mattress with a squeal. By the time she struggled to a seated position, he was on his knee in front of her. "Cause I only wanna be one woman's husband," he said honestly, taking her hand and pressing a kiss to her palm.

He hadn't intended to ask her until after dinner that night, but the flow of conversation felt right and he couldn't help popping the question in that moment. And seeing the tears flood her dark eyes brought a smile he was sure would split his face in half.

"Are you?" she started, and then snapped her mouth shut. "John."

Running a large hand up her thigh, he squeezed her flesh and smiled softly. "Pretty Girl, I love you. You make me crazy, you drive me nuts sometimes, but there is nobody else in the world that I can imagine spending the rest of my life with. Will you marry me?"

Tears spilled over her cheeks as Saryn fought to regain some sort of control. Since he had announced that they were going on vacation, she had been swept up in a world that she was sure they would never experience again. A world where his career didn't exist. Where nobody was calling at odd hours of the night to let him know there was a last-minute interview that he had to do. Where they were the only ones on the planet.

With a nod, she launched herself forward, tackling him to the floor. Saryn rolled onto her back, dragging John's body over hers. With her head thrown back, she laughed loudly and then crushed his mouth to her own, sucking hungrily on his lower lip. She slid her foot up the back of his leg, her arousal pooling when she felt him shiver. Tearing her lips from his, she took his earlobe between her teeth and circled it with her tongue before whispering, "Yes."

John's laughter joined hers as he rolled back onto his back and situated her over his thighs. "I love you, Pretty Girl," he gasped when she raked her fingernails over his chest.

Smiling, Saryn laid down, resting against his chest. "I love you, too, baby."

---

Saryn groaned and stretched her back, casting a glance at her fiancee before slipping out of the bed and heading toward the bathroom. He was like the Energizer Bunny, and while she couldn't complain at the pleasure he brought her, the aching feeling in her thighs protested loudly against the amount of time they'd spent in the bed.

Grabbing her cell phone, she shut the bathroom door and listened to the voicemails she had ignored for three days. She didn't have much of an extended circle, not outside of John and his friends, but she had still managed to rack up eight missed calls.

The sixth call was the one that stopped her heart in her chest.

"Hey, Cutie," Randy's voice permeated the line and caressed her eardrum. "So I know you're celebrating your anniversary. I hope you're having a great time." There was an awkward pause and she knew that he was trying to think of something to say that didn't sound too sappy. "It's weird not havin' you guys here," he chuckled. "Don't really know what to do with myself. Course, throwin' that rager at your house helped." Another laugh. She could only hope it meant he was kidding. "Uh, okay, so I'll let you go. You'll be home soon, so I'll just talk to you then. Love you."

The last two words were rushed, said so quickly she was sure he hadn't even thought about them before sending the message. As she flipped her phone shut and sat it on the counter, the glimmer of her new diamond caught the light, and her attention.

In the moment that John had proposed, she hadn't been thinking about Randy, or about the menage a trois. She hadn't considered what their impending wedding would do to that idea. And suddenly, her mind began to churn. What if John was just asking her to marry him so that she would drop the idea? What if this was his way of telling her that it was just them, that Randy wasn't welcome into whatever they had? What if she had accepted the end of the idea without even realizing it?

Stepping out of the bathroom, she smiled at the man in the bed. His blue eyes fluttered open, catching her gaze before his lips twitched into a broad grin. "Morning, baby," she whispered, tiptoeing back to him and slipping between the sheets.

John wrapped an arm around his soon-to-be wife and ran a finger down her back. She swung a leg over his and then groaned and moved it back. "You okay there, Pretty Girl?" he asked, his voice concerned.

Saryn tucked her head into the crook of his neck and sighed. "Just sore," she answered, feeling his chuckle against her cheek. "Can I ask you a question?" John mumbled his affirmation. "Don't take this the wrong way," she started, staring at his tanned flesh. "But did your proposal have anything to do with the whole situation with Randy?"

John's breath hitched in his chest just briefly before returning to normal. He carressed her shoulders gently, staring at the ceiling. "No," he answered honestly. "Tell ya the truth, I didn't even think before I did it. I've had that ring for more than a year," he admitted.

Twisting under his arm, Saryn stared at John with wide eyes. "A year? Why the hell'd ya wait so long?" she asked.

He couldn't help laughing at the expression on her face. Pushing her hair behind her ear with one hand, he hugged her back against his body and kissed the top of her head. "I've been waiting for the moment when everything fell into place. I just wanted to feel it, and to know you were feeling it. And we've been so busy lately," he added.

"So it had nothing to do with getting me to drop the whole menage a trois thing?" she asked before she could stop herself.

The long, awkward silence almost told Saryn that she had been right, until John let out a chuckle. "Jesus," he sighed. "I can honestly say that I wasn't thinking the first thing about Orton," he told her. "Do you still want me to think about it? I mean, we're gonna get married - do you still wanna?" he stopped and scrunched his nose. He had been reading. A lot. And he knew that there were married couples who brought another person into their relationship. It wasn't unheard of. But it certainly wasn't ideal.

Saryn let out a long sigh. "I don't know," she answered honestly. "I just," stopping, she looked up into John's blue eyes. "I just can't help thinking that he needs us." She couldn't tell him, in the afterglow of everything that had happened during their vacation, that she wished Randy was there. She wished that he could celebrate their engagement with them. She wanted him around.

John cast his gaze out the window and then back at his fiancee. He loved her. More than he loved anything int he world. If Saryn asked him to surrender his title and retire his career, he would consider it. Hell, if he was honest, he knew he would do it. There was nothing he wouldn't do for her. Some people didn't get her. She was crazy beyond comprehension sometimes. But he loved her. He couldn't help it.

"How 'bout this," John proposed, his hand drifting over her backside until she purred against his skin. "When we get home, I have a couple of days to catch up on the jetlag before I have to get back. We'll bring Randy over, and all three of us will talk about this thing. Okay?"

She sighed and nodded, wrapping her lips around his bare nipple. When John arched his hips toward her, she straddled his thighs and nodded in agreement of his proposal. They would worry about real life when they got back to Tampa. For now, she just wanted to enjoy her fiancee, and the beautiful vacation he had given her.


End file.
